My steps carry me through the forest. Each step bringing me closer to what I would hope is home. Looking down at my feet as I follow the path, I take stock of what I know. Two leather heavily worn boots. My travels wearing them thinner with each step. My pants full of holes and thread bare in more then one spot. Any decent lady would faint at some parts of me that are showing from behind. My vest dark leather, plain simple, a few brass studs still showing, growing green with age.
Reaching up my hands touch this bandage wrapped around my head. Groaning lightly from just the faint touch of my fingers send waves of pain through my body. My knees turn to jelly as the ground rushes up to meet me.
A cool night breeze, wakes me up, as it travels across my body with its silent caress. Climbing to my feet slowly. The first raindrops spatter on my head as I gather my bearings. Thinking to myself “Great.. what can happen next?”
Looking up only when the sound of a crowded tavern reaches my ears. Still trying to figure out what happened to me I make my way through the front door. As I push my way through the crowd my hands dart here and there. Each time coming back with a coin here, a gem there. As I reach the bar I slap a few coins down on the bar top.
As the Barmaid turns to me I tell her “Ale and Food … in that order. I don’t care what food just bring it to me.” Sitting there I wonder how I learned or knew to be a pick pocket. I know I had nothing for money when I walked in the door. But that still didn’t stop me, I just stole it as I moved to get what I wanted.
Turning around on the seat, my wet cloths making the seat squeek slightly. The Bartender leans back over “Hey stranger your new here. What is your name??” Hearing
that I turn to him and shrug a smile teasing my lips in mirth as I reply “I wish I knew…”

OOC : If i have some of the details wrong I will apologize now. I THINK i have them all right but not exactly 100% sure feel free to message me with the details i missed or ones that might help me follow along better.

Icy rain sliced through the stormy night, driving all life in the dark forest scattering for what feeble shelter as may be found. Most life, that is. Lightning flashed, illuminating an isolated clearing, well off from the main road. A dark-haired man in drab, rain-splattered clothes stood over an odd assemblage of steel, glass, and liquids. Thunder crashed, and his hand slipped, almost imperceptibly. "Oh, shi-" was all that could be heard, before fire flashed rain to steam, and a shock-wave echoed a counterpoint to the storm.

The smoke slowly cleared, and the man, now slightly singed, stumbled out, coughing, still alive thanks only to reflexes honed by years of dodging explosions. "Less Charstone next time..." he muttered to himself, whilst ensuring he had the same quantity of appendages as several minutes earlier. Fortunately for him, he seemed to escape the carnage with only a singed beard.

After a few seconds rummaging through various pockets and pouches within the recesses of his singed and soaked (though how both at once would seem at first thought paradoxical) clothes, he produced a tattered, if leather bound, book. A few ineffectual attempts at writing in the downpour later, he sighed, and snapped the book shut, replacing it within the seemingly extra-dimensional confines of his still smoking clothes. "That tavern... what was it's name... Ah, yes, the Dragon Tavern. It's somewhere around here..." he mused aloud. Examining a rain-splattered map, he nods to himself. "So, I'm here... then the tavern is... North, yes..." He turns, gathers what little can be salvaged from his experiment, and confidently heads East.

OOC: I'm rather new at this forum-based rp thing, so I would appreciate any criticism/advice appropriate.

Last edited by kalzekdor; 04-12-2010 at 08:48 PM.
Reason: Fixed some tenses.

A.N Sorry about the delay everyone, I had a suprise trip to go on, now heres the next bit

Fremen strode confidently out the door of his room, after being out in the rain, having a hot shower and changing had been very pleasent. He spotted QTChi at a nearby table. He walked over to her, his booted feet making only the slightest of noises. Finally he reached the table and sat on the chair opposite. "Horse Tail Cider anybody?" asked Fremen gesturing around the almost empty table.

The sound of thunder sounded overhead and was swallowed whole by the raucous within the tavern. She stood behind the counter, a black apron pressed against her voluminous curves and her hair cascading gold, over one bare shoulder. Alabaster skin with a faint bloom of rose, gleamed in the flickering tavern lantern, and her eyes, as blue as the summer blue skies, was framed with long beautiful lashes.

Sirenna sighed, her generous mouth turned upside down into a pout, as she studied her long nails. Oh, how she hated hated rainy days?

The door suddenly swung open, the ancient bell above the door barely heard over the thunderous patter of rain that filled the tavern. That wasn?t the only thing that filled the room though?

Even as the chilling wind blasted over the bartender, she raised her eyes and glared at the drenched rat that walked in. In fact, drenched rat was the perfect metaphor for the girl that stumbled in, looking like death wrung her over a second time. Those closest to the door immediately voiced their opinions, jeering at the newcomer who lingered at the entrance.

Sirenna pursed her lips and folded her arms across her bosoms.

She didn?t know much about this girl, though it seemed the lass had taken permanent residence in Dragon Town. The barmaid ran her eyes disapprovingly over the thin girl who struggled to shut the door behind her. As always, she was wearing these black, indescribable rags. Sweet Medusa, those are worse then the dish rags the cook uses to wipe the tables with, Sirenna thought to herself, as she continued to watch the girl, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

The storm had completely drenched her, and as the strange girl passed her to go up the stairs to the guest rooms, Sirenna could hear the squelching sounds of water seeping through the girl?s boots.

It was all Sirenna could do, not to scoff out loud.

Honestly, She thought to herself, as she turned away from the retreating guest. Someone needs to teach that girl how to dress or maybe what kind of weather is appropriate for strolls! What kind of person goes out in this kind of-

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened again and in strode some more guests.Male guests.

Almost immediately, the woman straightened, the movement causing the light to sparkle off the large curls that framed her face. ?Why hello there stranger,? Sirenna purred, leaning against the counter to take a good eyeful of the man.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Caball

?Ale and Food ? in that order. I don?t care what food just bring it to me.?

The man spoke gruffly as he slapped some money atop the worn counter. Still smiling, the woman looked down and picked up the coins, eying the gleam in the dim lighting. Seeing them redeemable, her smile grew wider and with a wink, the girl disappeared into the kitchen to serve this man?s order.

?Anything else you need Sir?? She asked, widening her eyes as she leaned against the counter to stare into the traveler's eyes. ?Perhaps a room with a large? warm? bed??
________Lovely Wendie

Blinks looking at the other Barmaid behind the counter. Chuckling softly as I replay the question she asked me in my head to make sure i heard it right.

"A large bed?? Who might I be sharing such a place with??" My one eye thats showing twinkling in the firelight."The one thing I would really like to know tho.. I doubt you could tell me."

Shudders as the room spins around suddenly everything going in and out of focus. Bringing my hands up grabbing my head lightly bandages and all. As if to try and steady the room. Blinks trying to clear my eyes trying to focus on the Barmaid. At one point my eyes swimming so far out of focus it seems she has wings.

"Angel lady, Who am i ???" Voice slurs out the short sentence as my knees turn to jelly. As I collapse to the floor my hands pulling off the bandage in a hard jerk when my body folds over the bar. My face crashing into the bartop with a sickening crunch.

When the bandage came off. It showed that i have 4 long deep gouges on the top and left side of my skull. The hair is greasy and mated. Since the hair is short everyone can see the dead and decaying skin between the cuts. Looking close one could see the tip of a bear claw wedged at the end of the deepest gouge. A slimy mucus like green pus oozes in and around the wounds. Small drops of blood pour out of the wounds like the rain on the windows.

Last edited by Caball; 04-12-2010 at 02:36 AM.
Reason: trying to get sig to work

After twenty minutes scrambling through the thick forest, the rain-soaked man in the still-singed clothes stumbles into a small clearing. He sighed, and pulled out his map, examining it intensely in the vicious rain. Roughly a minute later, he turned the map upside-down, muttering a few choice expletives under his breath.

Crumpling the, now useless, map into a ball, he tossed it to the ground. He started to rummage through his many pouches and pockets, pulling out a piece of cork and a sliver of a Lodestone. He pierced the Lodestone through the cork, and produced a battered tin cup. He continued to check pocket after pocket, looking for something without much success. "Where did I put that water flask..." he murmured. After checking several more places, he stopped suddenly, and looked at the stormy clouds above. "Oh, right...", he chastised himself, filling the cup with rainwater.

Once full, he placed the cork/Lodestone in the cup, and covered it with his hand to prevent further rainwater entering. The Lodestone spun, rotating back and forth, before finally stopping to point in one direction. "I was heading East, that explains it. So, I was originally ten minutes South of the Dragon Tavern, and I traveled twenty minutes East, which means...root of five hundred... twenty-two minutes in... roughly nine twentieths.. ninety minus sixty-threeish... which yields... I need to travel for twenty-two minutes in a direction twenty-seven degrees West of North. Which is... this way." He muttered under his breath, and walked off in the direction indicated by his makeshift compass.

Almost exactly twenty two minutes later, he stumbled out of the forest, and almost stumbled into a brick wall. Circling around to the front, he pushed through the Tavern door, managing success on only his second try. He blinked his eyes in the comparative brightness of the Tavern, taking in the entire common room. Something seemed out of place. A man had collapsed on the bar counter. While this in itself was not unusual, it was a tavern, after all, the scene bothered him, though he knew not why.

He walked towards the counter. As he did, he noticed what was bothering him. The smell of rotting flesh emanated from the man. He began to hurry, and once close, he saw the green ooze dripping from pustules within four deep lacerations across his skull. Putting on a breathing mask to ward off sickness, he rushed to the man's side.

"Although it is not my specialty, I do have some small knowledge of herbs and sicknesses. Perhaps I can help. Do you know what happened?" he asked of the barmaid, whilst examining the injured man's pupils to determine consciousness.

She had been smiling at him, letting the teasing glint fill her eyes as she coyly twirled a strand of hair upon one finger. Before her eyes, the man swayed in his seat and his face seemed to drain of all color.

The bartender froze.

Barely hearing his mumblings, she watched in shock as the man crashed onto the ground, wincing when the sound reverberated loudly within the tavern walls. Almost immediately, the girl rounded the counter and hurried to his side.

?Are you alrig-yow!?

Sirenna faltered, snatching her hand back against her chest. Her eyes widened with horror at the nasty gashes, as she clasped both hands over her nose and mouth. Not another one of those! She thought with dismay. Deadlander! She almost hissed the name out loud. Cautiously, she stood beside the fallen man, leaning over to see if he was still alive. With a grimace, she watched as the gangrenous wounds oozed, and took another step back for safety. It didn?t take a trained eye to see that infection had set in and this man was in serious need of medical care.

She turned and glanced over her shoulders at the kitchen doors.

?Fahte!? The name entered her mind, almost as quickly as it escaped her lips. Yes, surely she can deal with this? this? The thought broke off, as Sirenna glanced down perturbed at the injured man. ?this incident!

A good Samaritan appeared from the tavern crowd and approached Sirenna. Giving him a sharp look, she mumbled something about getting hot water and fresh towels, and turned briskly for the kitchen.
________Ship sale

The rain was pouring so heavily that Fahte could've sworn she was back on The Isle of Storms. Frowning to herself, she finished tidying up the worn leather couches and pillows that adorned the lounge of the tiny cottage. Satisfied, she hurried towards her room, passing the old fireplace where a timepiece sat skulking atop the wooden mantle. It was well into the night; and certainly well past the start of her shift at the tavern.

It couldn't be helped, she sighed. Lately, old mother Rosettia seemed to have become more frail than ever. Fahte had never bothered to ask her age for she had always appeared strong and independent. She had been living alone after all before their chance encounter a few short years back. Perhaps, her time was coming?

Shaking herself off such morbid thoughts she cursed the dreary storm for putting such things into her mind. Quickly slipping into her barsmaid dress, she turned towards the polished silver mirror infront of her tiny dresser an inspected herself. Twin orbs of silver flecked darkness stared back at her. Her almond shaped eyes and high cheekbones were framed by ringlets of fiery red hair. With her slightly pointed ears, a passing glance would've mistaken her for an elf. Although, if she knew rightly, she was not.

Quickly, she smoothed the creases on her dress and carefully pinned her hair into a ponytail which she left to rest over a shoulder. Grabbing her pouch, she headed out the room and towards the front door. Doffing on a cloak, Fahte took a deep breath before stepping out into the the stormy darkness.

Keeping both hands on the sides of her hood to hold it in place, she strode through the darkness. The rain had all but extinguished most of the torches out and only the occasional flash of thunder lit her way. Despite that, the girl hummed to herself, deftly skipping over puddles here and there, and ducked under creeping branches as though she had her route memorized. Finally, the looming brick walls of the tavern came into view, the ground around it lit by the streaming brightness which shone out its windows like treasure chest. The raucous merrymaking of the tavern patrons could be heard even above the rumbling thunder and pattering droplets. Picturing the drunken and sweaty men, she dreaded another night of furtive pinches and slaps on her behind; but she had been in worse. Besides, she was beginning to love her life, her job. The other tavern staff were friendly to say the least. Well, at least most of them.

By the time Fahte decided that it was a better idea to step inside, the bucketloads of water were beginning to seep through parts of her oiled cloak. Gliding round to the backdoor, she wrapped her hands on the handle and pushed. A blast of different aromas greeted her as she stepped into the kitchen, doing her best not to look guilty at being late. Just as she lowered her hood, the taproom door opened and the familiar golden hair came into view.

?There you are!? Her imperious voice called out across the distance, as Sirenna breezed through the door and caught sight of the girl huddled underneath her drenched cloak. Ignoring the rainwater still sluicing off Fahte?s shoulders, the barmaid turned and buried her head in the linen closet, searching for a clean rag to use.
?You better hurry out there,? She said, her voice muffled, as she pulled out what she needed and stepped back into view. ?It?s been sooo busy tonight. Bruce will kill you if I told him you were late. Oh! There?s a man out there, er... waiting. Could you go deal with that for me?? She asked very sweetly, turning to give Fahte a glance of her wide, innocent eyes.

She held up an empty bowl in her free hand and smiled charmingly. ?I promise I?m right behind you? he needed hot water??
________GAMESTOP GIFT CARD

Through the tavern chatter, the young necromancer stayed motionless in her seat. Her pale fingers were curled around the heavy goblet of Dragonsbreath,¹ her face expressionless and pale as ever. The Warmaster sat across from her, his voice booming over the gentle murmurings of others, but doing naught to roust her from her reverie.

Qtchi was hungry.

A shudder went through her small frame, as the lass slowly lifted her lashes, revealing clear crystal orbs that turned abruptly towards the counter. It wasn’t the server that caught her attention - though the young girl could sense the waves of disapproval, rolling off the woman’s shoulders at great lengths.

Nay…
…hunger honed in on the familiar scent that filled the air - one the lass was familiar with and tasted more then once in her existence. Blood.

Her fingers tightened around the goblet, the liquid sloshing violently over the edge and staining the table. Fluidly, the lass rose to her feet, noiselessly brushing past the Warmaster to get a closer look at the spectacle. Having changed from her drenched clothing, the lass now strode with easy confidence and made no move for the sword hanging in its scabbard at her belt. Her face was almost passive, her skin chalky-white, and her long black hair, its glossy locks enfolded by a headband studded with discreet opalescent gems. Only her eyes belied her child-like appearance…

…with a slight gleam of hunger, she stopped a pace behind a foreign traveler and peered over his shoulders to get a glimpse of the fallen victim.

Quote:

¹Dragonsbreath: This potent ale is served hot, mainly due to the fact that it never gets cold. Ever. Therefore, making it a perfect drink for Qtchi.

²ltm3673: What several others had mentioned, is true. God-Modding is when you make character say or do something that the original writer had not approved of. This includes miraculously making Qtchi appear sitting in a table, when I was going to write her doing something else instead… When in doubt, please refer to my original RP Guide. It is in this forums and FREE reading for anyone.